


Peace Coffee

by softspacedad



Category: Barry (TV 2018)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:08:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25689346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softspacedad/pseuds/softspacedad
Summary: The prompt that I received was "Hank brings Barry coffee at work", and he sure did. This is super short, but there you go.
Relationships: Barry Berkman/NoHo Hank
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Peace Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the first thing I have written since 2016, and it is very short and pointless, but I had to start somewhere. Thank you to alekstraordinary (go check out his stuff, it's amazing) for the prompt and the much needed corrections!!

“I don’t fucking care.”

The last words that Hank heard coming from Barry’s mouth were still ringing in his ears days later. Hank had come to seek him for help, and inform him of his genius plan: the Chechens back home wanted to hold someone responsible for the death of Goran, his ex-leader; so he blamed it all on that fox-mug stealing Esther. The last thing left to do was kill her, and he would be left alone with Cristobal once again. Only problem was, Barry had refused to help him in the slightest, and his anger and resentment hurt Hank more than he had thought it would. He did not know why he had grown to care so deeply for Barry, especially since he got nothing but disgust in return. But the truth was, throughout his busy day of running an organization of mobsters, he often stopped to wonder what the other man was up to, and if he was safe. Hank felt as though he had tried everything to get closer to Barry: he showered him with compliments, tried to impress him with his strategic and combat skills, and even mastered the art of disguise. But nothing seemed to work, and Hank was left with two options: trust his kind instincts or threaten to hurt the people Barry cared about.

As he sat in his room in the stashouse that the Chechens shared with the Bolivians, the thought of hurting Barry ran a cold chill down his spine. Technically, he could go the hard way, he certainly had done it many times before. He hadn’t ended up head of the Chechen mob in Los Angeles with his delicious sandwiches alone. If he wanted to, he could hit Barry where it really hurts, grind his brain into dust or... No. No, he may be a tough-as-nails criminal, but his mama had taught him better than this. He had been wrong before, and Cristobal almost died because of it. Now, they were working side by side running the biggest crime organization in Los Angeles, using only the power of good vibes, positivity, and the occasional brainwash. He was going to have to convince Barry to help him get rid of Esther by getting to the side of him that Hank knew to be compassionate.

Now, there were not many things that Hank knew Barry to like. His best guess would have to be theater, firearms, and black clothing. Hank was almost entirely against the idea of wearing something that did not have color in it, so that was not an option. He did not care much for guns, and as for theater, well, he did see this little library-

“Hank.” The sound of someone’s voice surprised Hank and took him out of his daydreaming. Akhmal was standing in the doorway, a bored look on his face, and he was holding out a paper cup. Hank got up, walked over, and grabbed the coffee out of his hands. “Thank you very much, Akhmal.” An indifferent grunt was all he got in reply. Hank thought about talking to Akhmal about improving his positivity for just a few seconds before the warm coffee was running down his throat, soothing all his problems away. A wave of relief washed over him and he let out a contented sigh, his eyes closing briefly. After just a few moments of silence, he snapped his eyes open quickly and exclaimed:

“Coffee! That is it! Barry will be very happy if I bring him nice cup of coffee.”

In reality, Hank did not know if Barry was the kind to drink coffee. But he was willing to try anything to get Barry on his side again. Hank told himself that that was strictly for business reasons and for the sake of staying alive, but a little part of him wondered what it might be like to hear Barry genuinely smile at him.

\--------------------

Hank had only gone once to visit Barry where he worked, at the Lululemon sporting goods store. Back then, he had been wearing a super great disguise, composed of a wig and one of his boldest shirts. This time around, he wanted Barry to see him open and honest, in the hopes that that might get him some sympathy. He put on a blue polo shirt and his nicest pants, and headed to Lululemon to be there right before the end of Barry’s shift, stopping on the way to grab some coffee at his favorite little L.A. café.  
In all honesty, Hank arrived a little bit earlier than planned, because of how nervous he was. Last time, things had not ended well between him and Barry, and he wanted so badly to make things better, without really knowing how. And as the day was coming to an end, the store was empty except for Barry himself, the sun setting and warm colors embracing his angular features, Hank wondered if a cup of coffee would be enough. If he would be enough. His hands holding onto the coffee for dear life, Hank slowly walked over to the Lululemon store, opened the door and almost jumped at the sound of the bell announcing his entrance.

“The store is about to close,” started Barry in a husky voice that didn’t sound like him, his back to the door. He might have been practicing a different kind of character for his acting class, Hank thought. Barry continued, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to co-” he turned around, and his polite smile dropped.“Hank.” he said, his voice back to normal. “What exactly do you think you’re doing here? I thought I made myself clear that I don’t want-”

“Peace offer?”, Hank interrupted, handing the cup of coffee over to Barry with a weak smile.

Barry stared at Hank’s hand holding the cup in the air for a few seconds before knocking it to the ground in one swift motion and closing the gap between him and Hank in a few dangerous steps.

“Stay the fuck away from me”, he said in a low, angry voice, “I don’t want to help you, and I don’t care if you die.”

For a few moments, Hank did not answer. His hands were furiously grabbing the sides of his favorite pants, that he had worn especially for Barry. His jaw was clenched so tight that he could hear his teeth grinding. A feeling he had rarely felt before boiled up in his stomach, like a tongue of fire wrapping around his insides and pushing him to action. Hank did not have to wonder for long what it was: it was pure, unadulterated rage. The kind he had only felt a few times in his life, when he was most at risk. He let out an exasperated sigh, one that meant “I am trying my best not to stab you right now”. He looked at Barry right in the eyes, looked down to the cup of coffee on the ground, and back at Barry.

“I have been nothing but kind to you”, Hank said in a tone that had an edge that surprised both Barry and him. “I protected you from Goran, from all the Chechens, I did it for you. I come to you for help, and you spit in my face. I try again, bring you peace coffee, you throw it away.”

Something in the air clearly shifted. Barry’s eyebrows went from anger to surprise, and without realizing, he had taken a slight step back, away from Hank. It was as though Barry was hit with the realization that Hank had never been cold to him, not once. This was new, and frankly quite terrifying. Hank took another step, becoming dangerously close to Barry. The two men held each other’s gaze in silence for a few moments, silently gauging each other, before Hank broke the silence again:

“I know you, Barry. Maybe, you don’t care about me, but I know you. What is this saying that you have here? “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer”? You were my friend, Barry, and I wanted to keep you close. But if you are to become my enemy, I am going to have to keep you closer. And if you are my enemy, I know where to hit. I have been looking out for you. I know about the acting class, your job here, your… your girlfriend”. Hank seemed to lose his composure for a few seconds. Barry’s mouth was in a straight line, his muscles tense; he did not dare move. “With a word from me, my guys can take everything you have. I have protected you from them, but I don’t see why I would protect someone who refuses the coffee I bring him.”

“H...Hank, come on.” Barry said, a little unsure and surprised by this side of Hank he was seeing. “I’m sure we can find an arrangement, right?”

Hank did not say a word in response. He just leaned down, grabbed the empty cup of coffee off of the floor, walked towards the exit, and threw it in the trash. He opened the door, stopped, turned around to face Barry whose entire body was paralyzed, and said:

“Don’t fuck with me, Barry. It’s not polite.”


End file.
